


Sweater Weather

by crocodilepatronus



Category: One Piece
Genre: Beaches, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 08:44:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4618947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crocodilepatronus/pseuds/crocodilepatronus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>one love, two mouths. Doflamingo and Vergo take a walk on the beach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweater Weather

Cold days were a rarity on Dressrosa. And when they came, the people of the country, unused to such conditions, usually cleared the streets and locked themselves in their houses. But Doflamingo had always loved rarities, as any king would. And collected them, even in the form of experiences, like precious treasures.

The feather coat looked somehow out of place when it was being billowed and blown behind him in the brisk wind. It maintained its form but it felt as if at any moment it would fall apart under the duress, tossing pink feathers to the wind to scatter everywhere.  

Vergo knew he shouldn’t worry about it. After all, Doflamingo flew through the skies with the same coat on his back and it never did any damage. He always expected things to be more fragile than they were. But such a trait was a virtue in a paranoid lifestyle like his.

The sun was setting, painted streaks of violent colors that reflected down on the ocean and the waves that lapped against Doflamingo’s ankles, and tinted the entire country in a rose hue.

Doflamingo was barefoot and walking with his awkward, bow legged, gait, across the shore. As was typical, Vergo kept the same pace but a few steps behind.

Vergo was not barefoot. He also wasn’t as poorly dressed for the weather- wearing a light coat that buttoned up to his neck and long pants, unlike Doflamingo who was bare chested in his open shirt and wearing pants that only came down just past his knees.

“Joker.” Vergo said calmly.

The head in front of him half turned but didn’t respond.

“You’re going to catch a cold.”

The wind blew as if to reinforce his point, and Doflamingo turned, as if the gust of wind had spun him around with its force, making him turn in a wave of feathers like a gaudy marionette. He grinned at Vergo.

“I’m not the one who’s getting their leather shoes wet.” he responded.

Vergo looked down at his feet. Indeed the ocean was starting to lap over them without his notice. It didn’t matter.

Doflamingo’s shoulders shook with his half contained, maniacal giggle and he turned once more, kicking his feet against the water.

Vergo wondered if having the ocean on his bare skin would effect Doflamingo, with his devil fruit powers. He was starting to become aware of how wet and heavy his own shoes felt. And how the water was starting to seep into his socks.

“Joker….” he started again, succeeding at least in keeping the impatience out of his tone.

“You never called me Joker when we were just children.” Doflamingo interrupted before he could finish.

This gave him pause.

“…Doffy.” Vergo said softly, as if he could still taste that memory on his tongue.

Doflamingo chuckled and dug his foot deep into the wet sand underneath the water. The wind dislodged a feather from his coat which Vergo watched silently as it swooped through the air and then was sent blowing off across the ocean, out of sight. A curl of water pushed forward, hitting them both in the knees. Vergo made a sound of displeasure as his pants got soaked through. Doflamingo laughed at him.

“It’s going to get dark soon.” Vergo offered with little hope. It had always been hopeless to try and stop Doflamingo once he’d found something he wanted to do.

“You worry too much, Vergo.”

“… I know.” Vergo muttered a little ruefully.

“You’re the one who’s going to catch cold.” Doflamingo said, and then leaned down, letting his knees fall into the water, and began to roll up the bottom of Vergo’s pants.

“No” Vergo said reflexively, feeling choked, feeling like his lungs had closed up quite abruptly. He clutched Doflamingo’s shoulder, trying to pull him up. “Don’t kneel, Doffy, don’t-” 

“Hush.” Doflamingo silenced him, continuing rolling up the other pants leg and then beginning to pull of his shoes. The end of his fether coat was trailing behind him on the surface of the water. It looked so limp. Like a drowned bird being carried by the tide.

Vergo’s fingers dug deeper against Doflamingo’s shoulder, as if he would lose his balance.

“You shouldn’t-” he began again.

“I can do whatever I please, Vergo.” he reminded him sternly.

Vergo huffed, tensing once more as Doflamingo’s long fingers brushed along the bare skin of his ankle and pulled off his other shoe.

“I could do it myself…” Vergo muttered petulantly.

“You do a lot of things for me that I can do myself.” Doflamingo replied simply as he took the shoes and chucked them into the ocean.

“Oi…”

“They were ruined anyway.” Doflamingo laughed.

When his laughter had died down he looked up at Vergo, still kneeled in front of him, still half submerged in an ocean that could kill him. Vergo reached out. His fingers brushed against the side of Doffy’s neck. He’d been foolish to worry that he’d be cold. His skin felt so heated under his fingertips. Doflamingo leaned into the touch, wrapping his own hand around Vergo’s.

A smile broke his face, teeth bared.

“I’ll pull you into the ocean with me if you’re not careful.”

Vergo’s fingers curled against him, fingernails dragging lightly over his skin. And then gripping the back of his neck still, he took Doflamingo’s elbow with the other hand and pulled him up out of the water.

“You’re soaked through.” Vergo chided.

“Mm.” Doflamingo smiled.

 “We should go. It will be dark out.”

Doffy trotted along after him obedientily for once as Vergo began walking back. But he could hear stifled laughter behind him as they went. He didn’t dignify it with a response.

Then without warning Doflamingo reached his hand out and clasped it around Vergo’s.

“Hold hands with me.” he chirped, grinning mischeviously.

“Fine.”

“Don’t make a face.”

“I’m not.”

“That serious face.”

“My face is always like that.”

“fufufufufufufu.” Doflamingo’s feathers shook with the force of his laughter. A few got left behind in the sand as they walked.

“We used to hold hands all the time when we were kids.” Doflamingo said, a little wistfully.

“You’re awfully nostalgic today…. Doffy.”

“Because it’s been so long since you last visited.” Doflamingo said. “Sometimes when I hear that you’re coming back, I imagine the little boy with the funny haircut I met when I was just a child is going to be the one who shows up at my door.”

“We’re old men now, though.” Vergo said. He squeezed Doflamingo’s hand gently in his own.

“How horrible. I still feel very young.” Doflamingo chuckled. He stopped in his tracks, pulling Vergo back with their connected hands.

The sky was fading into a dark purple, streams of a violent orange still seeping from beyond the horizon. It looked like the sun was a head of a body, being held under the ocean to drown.

Doflamingo’s fingers were long and spindly against Vergo’s cheeks but the pads of his thumbs were soft as they brushed his lower lip, parting them before he leaned in and kissed him deeply on the mouth.

“Doflamingo…” Vergo started, catching his breath with effort.

“You shouldn’t listen to Trebol so easily.”

“What?”  


Doflamingo leaned forward, brushing his lips against Vergo’s jaw.

“I may be a God… but I’m a man too.” he said, his hand splayed against Vergo’s collarbone, sliding down his chest, popping the buttons on his shirt as he went. “I have things that I desire.”

And he fell to his knees in front of Vergo. The wind blew, ruffling through his golden hair. The eyes behind his glasses still a mystery but his lips damp and parted, his breathing labored.

And Vergo felt nostalgic too. Of the first time he’d kissed Doflamingo, when they were thirteen years old and hidden in a dark alleyway. How sloppy their touches had been then, and frantic. And how Doffy had looked then so much like how he did now- vulnerable for once in his life. Vulnerable and open and trembling for Vergo.

They’d never spoken of that moment afterwards. Children experimenting. Not knowing what they were doing. Not knowing the significance maybe. But since then no touch had ever meant anything to Vergo. Everything else had felt cold and lifeless in comparison.

Vergo’s hand gripped the back of Doflamingo’s neck, curling against the short hairs there, feeling the goosebumps raised on his skin, as the other man took him into his mouth. Vergo experienced the sensation of drowning. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. His whole body felt awash with heat and prickling pleasure. Doflamingo’s mouth, red and swollen and stretched tight around him, sliding wetly from base to tip. His hands gripping the back of his thighs, fingernails clawing at him for support so he could take him deeper each time.

Vergo gasped then whimpered. He couldn’t bear it.

The feeling crested, crashing in the pit of his stomach as he came, Doflamingo’s name on his lips in a broken cry.

His legs were trembling and Doflamingo’s hand on his lower back felt like the only thing keeping him upright as his partner stood up, closing Vergo’s pants for him.

The smile had returned to his mouth. That mouth…

“Cmon.” Doflamingo chuckled. “Aren’t you the one who wanted to go inside?” He began walking ahead of him, leaving Vergo still standing stiffly and paralyzed in place.

Then Vergo called after him.

“Doffy- wait.”

The other turned. He wasn’t smiling anymore. The sky had dissolved into dark shades of purple with the last remnants of daylight.He looked somehow expectant. And maybe even... melancholy. Or perhaps Vergo was just imagining it.

Vergo sighed as he took off his jacket and with some effort, managed to pull it around Doflamingo, feather coat and all. It made an awkward picture- pink feathers bursting out from beneath Vergo’s much more conservative looking jacket. Doflamingo clearly thought it was a riot he could barely stop laughing during the entire process.

“So you don’t catch cold.” Vergo mumbled.

Doflamingo beamed back at him. “Thank you.” he said.

The words were a rarity from him. As rare as a cold day on Dressrosa.

 


End file.
